The Limanicure

And the lunch

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The Limanicure

After years of almost never ever getting manicures, I started working in a wine store. One of the store’s regular wine reps, who is also my spinning instructor, also a friend and soon to be a neighbor, has good nails. She said she has to have decent nails what with opening and pouring and showcasing bottles of wine. I wondered if I should probably start getting mine done too so as not to bring shame on the owner of the store I work at with disgusting or just boring nails.

This moment in time coincided with writing a lot for a watch magazine called Hodinkee and having my wrists and therefore hands regularly photographed displaying various watches and surely you can understand why it became necessary to take on the expensive and time-consuming habit of regular manicures.

About six weeks ago I was writing about a green and blue Zenith with diamonds and therefore wearing it, trying it out for a few weeks. Understand this was not my watch. The way it works is the company sends it and I wear it and send it back. (Sending this watch back was sad. It hurt.)

But for the bright shining moment it was mine the watch needed to be photographed so I got a matching blue/green manicure (every other finger) studded with two rhinestones on each ring and index finger. It looked great for about two and a half weeks and then it started to look a bit faded and then it started to bring to mind a swimming pool at a sad adult resort. Manicures are kind of like relationships with someone you’re not ultimately right for/vice versa. They are exciting at first, no matter how trashy,  then they are sad, and finally they are hideous.